


Thirteen Years

by Katuary



Series: Cullen Rutherford & Evelyn Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Childhood Memories, Circle of Magi, Gen, Ostwick (Dragon Age), Ostwick Circle (Dragon Age), Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Rite of Tranquility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 05:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katuary/pseuds/Katuary
Summary: Evelyn's thirteen years in the Ostwick Tower, told in a series of snapshots."It didn't matter that it was only a glow in her cupped hands. That led to sparks, led to flame, led to death. This was the only place everyone was safe from her."





	Thirteen Years

**Age 8**

By the time Evelyn arrived at the Ostwick Tower, she knew what she'd done wrong. Magic. She could've hurt Max. Hurt her parents. It didn't matter that it was only a glow in her cupped hands. That led to sparks, led to flame, led to death. This was the only place everyone was safe from her.

***

She couldn't sleep the first night. The narrow bed was stiff, the mattress thin. She could sprawl in her bed back home, even when her baby brother always clambered in beside her the moment the nursery door shut. She cried into her pillow until an older apprentice snapped that her noise would bring the templars.

***

She didn't speak much to the other apprentices. She had never been much good with other children, family excepted. Besides, despite being a...a mage...herself, she knew enough about mages as a group to fear them. _Magic is meant to serve man and never to rule over them_. 

***

Holding her pillow to her chest at night helped, hugging it tightly with thin arms and bony knees. If she squeezed hard enough, if she coiled her shoulders up to crush under her ears, she could fall asleep to the sound of her own heartbeat.

***

She brightened when parcels were delivered for the first time. She already knew how to read. Sister Beatrice had taught Evelyn her lettering practically before she could walk. Max didn't write well yet, but he could ask Mama or Papa to write something for her. Maybe they'd each send a letter! Perhaps they'd even ask to visit? No, it would be better if _she_ visited _them_. They could have her bring a whole battalion of templars if they needed to, right? Max might like their armor, even if the sight already made Evelyn shrink. 

But no. There weren't many letters to pass out, and none were for her. _They'll write. They'll visit. It's just too soon._

***

Her dreams, even benign ones, frightened her. She rubbed her eyes raw, whispered the Chant in her head, counted to a thousand three times over, tugged at her hair until her scalp burned. She refused to sleep until exhaustion gave her no choice. Maybe she would have a dreamless night. No risk of seeing demons.

***

Sun poured over the grounds, but the mages in the Tower weren't allowed outside. Evelyn watched from a library window, wondering if the children splashing in a shallow stream far below could see her. She never _had_ learned how to swim. 

**Age 11**

It took years for her to stop looking for letters. By her third year of study, she didn't so much as lift her head when the messengers arrived.

**Age 14**

The tower heard of the Fifth Blight only once it ended. Her first thought was disappointment; perhaps the Ostwick mages would have been recruited to fight had the Blight lasted just a _little_ longer. Her stomach turned immediately at the thought, and she prayed for forgiveness for it even crossing her mind. It was a cruel sentiment and a _stupid_ one. Her Harrowing was not for years yet; they'd never send an untested apprentice outside the tower.

*** 

No one told the mages at Ostwick much about the Blight itself, apart from how it ended. The future Queen of Ferelden becoming the first Warden in history to both slay an Archdemon and survive apparently was not noteworthy. Berating Lady Elissa Cousland's choice to ally with the mages of Kinloch Hold despite the destruction they'd brought on themselves, on the other hand, was an excellent reminder of how lucky they were not be made Tranquil for the safety of normal people.

***

She stopped reciting the Chant at night. If Andraste or the Maker cared about such a small offense, she was damned already for everything else that comprised her being.

**Age 18**

She passed her Harrowing with flying colors, despite a minor incident with that damned rabbit. Senior Enchanter Lydia had prepared her well.

***

Ten years of ruthless training and studying, of fearing her own shadow, and most of her rewards for success could be piled in a small corner. A new set of robes, appropriate for a Harrowed mage. New quarters set apart from the apprentices. Apprentices of her own to mentor. Ten years, and she still hadn't been allowed outside the tower.

**Age 21**

She stayed out of the way, performed spells only when needed and never in the halls. She never caused trouble, and so was hardly noticed anymore. She heard the rumors of Kirkwall's Circle before anyone else. 

There were so many more templars than usual. A good amount of extra Chantry clergy too. 

She meant to warn Lydia, try to spread the word, but the door to her office was barred shut and guarded by templars by the time she arrived. She walked past them with her eyes fixed on the stone floor, never breaking stride.

***

She didn't sleep that night. She was ready when they came for her, brand of Tranquility in hand. Two templars and a Chantry cleric, frozen harmlessly to the wall of her chamber in seconds. One had nearly caught her, gauntleted hand yanking her braid before she could complete the spell. 

It would melt. Their mouths were covered so they couldn't shout for help, but they could breathe through their noses. She didn't need to kill them, so she refused to prove their fears about her kind right.

***

She fled into the night, a handful of her apprentices in tow. Despite herself, she glanced over her shoulder at the distant tower. Peaceful and calm as always. _More so today than ever_, she thought bitterly, shaking her head. 

She took a moment to saw through her hair with a stolen knife, incinerating the braid in her hand once it was done. Largely, it was pointless when there was little she could do to hide their path. Not when their phylacteries were still intact and under guard. She ran a hand heavily through her freshly cropped hair and grit her teeth.

Apostasy then. So be it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Since DAI is pretty vague about what happens with the Ostwick Circle, and since there don't seem to be any other Circles in open rebellion during Asunder, I made up my own canon. The entire Circle was made Tranquil as a precaution. Vivienne mentions in early dialogue that Lydia was killed by an apprentice, but I couldn't decide where to land on that and kept it vague. Either she was killed by an apprentice, and that instigated the hasty Rites of Tranquility, or she was killed by the templars to have an excuse for the Rites.


End file.
